


“You’ll love him”

by MaxMustard



Category: Clone High
Genre: Can you tell?, First Date, JFK’s gay foster dads, JFgogh, Joan is both of their friends, M/M, eh who cares, i don’t write clone high often, implied jfk/ponce, jfk’s POV, wtf are their names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:00:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28810773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxMustard/pseuds/MaxMustard
Summary: Joan sets her friends Jfk and Vincent Van Gogh up on a blind date. And it’s surprisingly not that bad!
Relationships: JFK/Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High)
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

When Joan told me about a cute guy I might like at first I was excited. I was very social and always willing to be friends with Joan’s friends. However, when she asked if she could set us up on a blind date I was hesitant to say yes. I know “date” didn't  _ technically  _ imply anything romantic, but the way Joan talked about this guy it was obvious she had love in mind.

I still wanted to meet him, but I was less enthusiastic about it. I wasn’t really into dating after Poncey died. I still had hookups and whatnot, but nothing romantic had happened in my life since. But if meeting this guy would make Joan even slightly happy, I guess I’d do it.

We were supposed to meet at the Grassy Knoll on Friday at 4:30 after school. I was supposed to sit at table seven. Joan told me she'd be at a table nearby if I ever needed support. Which was nice, if not a little insulting. I wasn’t a toddler. I got there ten minutes early. I  _ really  _ didn’t want to be late. But apparently mystery guy had gotten there even earlier. Either that or it was just some guy who was trying to eat there. Well, I’d have to find out. “Um… are you er Joan’s friend?” I asked timidly. The guy at the table looked up in shock. “N-no way. Joan didn’t tell me… I-I didn’t know it was… I-I-I… y-yeah I’m Joan’s friend.” He finally mustered. I sat down awkwardly, not expecting Mr. Mystery to be so surprised. “You probably know me. I’m Jfk. 1st president of the United States!”

“I‘m not sure- n-never mind. I’m Vincent Van Gogh. You probably know my clone dad, but there’s no way you know  _ me. _ ”

I studied him carefully. I’d seen this guy a few times at track, but we’d never talked. And I couldn’t quite place who his clone dad was either… “can you give me a refresher on who that is? Er uh Vincent Van Gogh I mean.”

Vincent cleared his throat. “Um… he was a painter… he painted Starry Night… and he c-cut off his ear… ring a bell?” Vincent seemed like he didn’t want to share this information. Oh! Wait! Yeah, I’d heard of that guy! “Oh yeah! I remember him! Wow, you’re so lucky. I er uh bet you’re so good at art!”

Van’s eyes brightened. “Th-thanks.”

Finally it seemed like the conversation was going somewhere, but the waitress came and asked for our orders. We placed them and I whispered “and uh how about something sweet for the cutie I’m sittin with?” Into her ear. She nodded and walked away. 

“Man, I wish I could see some of your art. But I betcha don’t carry around your paintings with ya all the time.” I chuckled. Van smiled nervously. He reached into his bag and pulled out a thick sketchbook, worn with age. “Well uh, I have this sketchbook… y-you can look through it if you like. A-and don’t worry. It’s not the one I use to draw nude models.” He giggled. I didn’t quite understand the joke, but I laughed at it. I grabbed the book and flipped through the pages. It was amazing! I didn’t know somebody could draw this good!! Joan was a pretty good artist, but this stuff was photorealistic! “Wow Vincey! You  **_drew_ ** this stuff?”

“Mm hm…”

“How’d you get so good at it?”

Vincent shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe it’s all the time I spend locked up in my room. I don’t have much to do at home. And school is pretty boring, so I usually just sketch the nearest interesting thing I can find.”

“You shouldn’t even be at Clone High! Y-you should be at… uhh… art… high!” I said, handing his notebook back to him. He stored it away into his bag and looked at me with a sweet smile spread across his face. “Thanks. I-it means a lot coming from you.”

The waitress came back and handed us our drinks and food (adding in a slice of strawberry cake for Van Gogh, which was a fulfillment of my request.) 

“D-did you order this for me..?” Van asked with a sparkle in his brooding green eyes.

“Yeah. It’s sweet, like you.” I smiled.

A blush spread across his face, “ahah, erm, th-thanks so much. N-nobody’s ever said that to me…” Van Gogh sure seemed to thank me for a lot of things. Had he never gotten compliments like this before? He must’ve!!! No way people were letting adorable, talented, quiet boys like this go unnoticed! 

I combed a hand through my hair. “So what do you do for fun, Gogh?” I asked. He took a bite of his original order (a small salad), “I paint. Mostly scenery. Never really portraits or specific objects. Sometimes I try to recreate my clone dad’s paintings.” He shifted when he said the last part. I took a big bite out of the burger I’d ordered. “You must be  _ incredible  _ at it! Have you tried painting yourself? I mean, I don’t think a canvas would be able to hold all of your beauty, but still…”

“Er, yeah actually. I-it never turns out any good.”

“You have to let me over sometime to see! I er uh bet they look just like photos!” I said, angling my fingers to make a square frame around Van Gogh. 

“Y-you really want to come over sometime to see? I mean, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m sure you’re busy.”

I waved my hand. “I have all the time in the world on Saturdays. When’s a good time for you?”

“Twelve. M-m-my parents will be at work and you’ll probably be awake by then.” Van Gogh still seemed shocked that I wanted to actually come over.

“So it’s a date?”

“Y-y-yeah. It’s a date.”

The rest of the time we just goofed around. Telling jokes and stories and all around having a good time. When we had both finished our food it seemed the uptight atmosphere when I first arrived had simply melted away without a trace. 

“I’d love to stay and chat with you, John. But I should be getting home now.” Vincent smiled dreamily at me.

“I could drive you, if you’d like.”

“Oh, thanks, but J-Joan is my ride.”

“Oh,” I looked over Vincent’s shoulder at Joan who’d been “looking at the menu” for an hour “I have a feeling she won’t mind…”

I let Van tell me his address and put it into my gps. While we were driving we didn’t say much, just listened to the radio, but it was still nice to be around him. I parked the car outside of his house. “This the right place?”

“Mm hm. Thanks… for… everything tonight. I hadn’t planned on having such a good time.”

Vincent looked happy, but unsure for a moment before giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “O-okay. I have to go now! Bye!”

Van Gogh ran out of my car and into his house. I rubbed the spot where he had kissed me. Sure, I’d made out with tons of girls before, but this kiss… it just meant so much more. I smiled and drove home.


	2. Vincent’s House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jfk goes over to Vincent’s house and something happens. Sorry for the vague summery am very tired

It was 11:36 on Saturday and my gay foster dads were still fawning over that fact that I was interested in a  _ guy  _ again. 

“Oh baby we are so proud of you! You’ve gotta look your best for this date! Carl, should he wear his cherry red sweater? Or his ruby red sweater? Oh! Or his crimson—“

“Da-a-ads! I’ll be fine! Just let me get dressed and try not to text me too much! I don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of Van!”

“Of course, honey. We’ll try to distance ourselves.” 

I threw on the nearest sweater I could find and waited until 12:49 to go over to Vincent’s.

It was a short drive away, and I still remembered his address from last night. 

Sure enough, when I knocked on the door, the short redhead answered tiredly. “... who— oh! Jfk! I-I’m so sorry! I forgot! I didn’t have any time to get ready! God I’m such an idiot—“ while Vincent was freaking out I placed a hand on his small shoulder. He squeaked. “Hey, hey. It’s fine. I think you look great. And I er uhh brought you some flowers.”

I handed him the bouquet I brought and he blushed. “Oh. These are beautiful… I-I mean c-come inside.” He seemed embarrassed that he’d said the first part out loud.

Van’s house was big. It looked just like a regular home, but I expected some of his paintings to be hung up. “Where are all of your paintings?” I asked disappointedly. Vince sighed as he walked up the stairs. “My room. My parents never let me downstairs to paint. They’re always doing something. It’s fine though, I want  _ nothing  _ to do with them.”

“Oh… I’m sorry about that, Vince.” I gave him a sympathetic look, but he didn’t notice. He led me into his room which in itself looked like a painting. It was bare except for a bed, a desk and chair, an easel, and a pile of canvases in the corner. Van gestured to a canvas that looked almost blank, propped up against the easel, but when I took a closer look, I realized it had a pencil sketch on it. “That’s my latest work. It’s somewhere in the woods. I was sketching it  _ in  _ the woods, but mom called and I had to go home. I took a picture though.”

He grabbed one of the paintings in the pile. “This is one of my self portraits. It’s alright. I don’t think it really looks like me though.”

I thought it looked exactly like him. Vincent’s art style was so cool. I liked all the little swirlies and use of yellow. “Well gosh Van, I guess I was wrong about you…”

Vincent seemed scared for a second. “W-wrong about what about me?”

“Your beauty  _ can  _ be displayed onto a canvas!” I said cheerfully, picking up the painting to admire it. Van Gogh rubbed the back of his neck. “W-we don’t have to spend the whole time looking at my paintings, you know.”

“Isn’t that why you er uh invited me over?”

“I… well… yes I… suppose I  _ did  _ invite you over for that. B-but that’s not all we can do you know.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” 

Van Gogh looked hesitant. “I… don’t know. I just feel weird with somebody complimenting my art so much…”

“Aw but you deserve it!” I said cheerfully, kneeling down to hug Van. He giggled. “Well it’s just that… it’s the same stuff my dad did. I mean… it’s  _ literally  _ a clone of his art.”

“But the fact that you  _ could  _ copy him is so cool! You’re so talented, Van! I wish I could do art this good!”

“But you’re good at other things. You don’t  _ need  _ to be good at art.” He pointed out. 

“And  _ you  _ don’t have to be so cute when you’re already physically attractive. And yet, here we are.”

“You suck.” Vincent said, looking away from me. I sat down on my knees on the floor, so I was on his level. Vincent was confused. “I… what are you doing?”

“I have a question.”

“Oh. Um.. shoot.”

“What do you er uhh see me as?”

Vincent looked taken aback by the question. I wanted to know because we’d been on a date, but were never friends prior and never officially said anything about our relationship. “I… don’t know… I’m sorry.”

“What would you like us to be?”

Vincent looked lost in thought for a second. I liked people like him. Who were all thoughtful like that. And he looked cute when he did that. “B-boyfriends?” 

I smiled. “Me too. So Vincent Van Gogh…” I stood up, “will you err uhh go out with me?”

Vincent panted and waved his hands in front of his face for a second, whispering, “oh my god! Jfk’s asking me out! Oh my god!”

He cleared his throat and looked really serious. “Y-yes. I accept.”

I couldn’t contain my excitement. I picked him up and hugged him tightly. “Ack! John!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m just so happy!”

“But… haven’t you dated tons of people?”

I looked at him and grinned. “None as special as you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry! There will be another chapter.


End file.
